The Street Fair
by AlyKat16
Summary: Bucky understands how to make girls swoon as his feet, but when it comes to understanding how to express his feelings, he kind of fails. 1940s!Steve and Bucky
1. Chapter 1

When Clara was a little girl she used to go to the street fair every year with two of her best friends, Steve and Bucky. However, when the stock market crashed, no one had money or time to sponsor the frivolities. Clara's own father had lost his job at the factory. She had tried to help her family by collecting pieces of scrap metal, wood, and junk that could be re-purposed and resold. It wasn't the most pleasant task, and often she got chased down and shouted at, but it helped her family, and that was all that mattered.

Steve and Bucky had often joined her while she scavenged, joking and keeping her spirits up. Sometimes the three of them played dragons and knights, both boys taking turns fighting off one another to "protect" Clara and the junk heap. On other days she had taught Steve the dances that Elizabeth, Clara's older sister had taught to her, Bucky looking on in amusement as she and Steve tripped clumsily over each other's feet.

Her favorite memories, however, were the years before the depression. The three friends would attend the moving pictures, Bucky, the oldest member of the group, promising Clara's mother that he would watch out for her daughter. Steve had always liked the swashbuckler films while Clara fell in love with the romantic genre. Bucky didn't care what was playing on the screen— as long as there were pretty girls. The friends got into trouble too; Steve had punched the boy who kept making fun of Clara's hair, and Bucky would always have to separate them before they could kill each other. They climbed over fences and explored abandoned buildings with reckless abandon. The days that were the most unforgettable, though, were the ones spent at the street fairs.

There were always carousels and Ferris wheels, animals and sideshow attractions, and of course, long rows of carts of delicious foods. But the thing that Clara loved the most were the games. Games of skill, games of luck, games of strength: they were all accounted for. Steve and Bucky always competed to see who could win the most prizes, and at the end of the day, all three were always loaded down with stuffed toys and small trinkets.

This year was a bit different. Instead of spending money to rent out booths and games, the community members in charge decided to ask for donations of any sort. Men volunteered to make booths out of wood scraps and women sewed small tent covers from pieces of old clothing. The children in Clara's apartment building donated small toys that they'd outgrown, and she and some of her friends had made dolls and stuffed animals out of things they had found laying about. The main attraction this year, however, the fair committee had scrimped and saved for. It was a Ferris wheel—a rickety old thing with a rusted frame— but a Ferris wheel none the less.

The stairs creaked as Clara rushed down them, her younger brother, Robert, tugging her hand. He had barely given her time to get dressed and pin back her unruly black hair before yelling at her to hurry up. She had quickly and carefully dressed in her green floral dress with short sleeves and a high-belted waist that Clara had worked long hours at her uncle's flower shop to earn money for. On her feet were halfway-buckled shoes that she had shined earlier in the morning.

She could hardly blame her brother for being excited— the last time they had had a fair, he was 3, and much too young to remember anything. But in her forced rush, Clara had left her sweater upstairs, and it was looking to be a typical, chilly New York night.

"There it is!" Both siblings stopped in the middle of the street and craned their necks to see the top of the giant wheel that sat only a block away. Clara had forgotten just how tall the Ferris Wheel was.

"Let's go, Clara!" Her brother took off again, and she followed at a light jog, stopping briefly to re-buckle her shoes. The lights from the fair lit up the street and Clara couldn't help but be amazed with how well everything had come together.

She caught up with her brother under a patchwork tent. He had already met up with a ragtag group of boys- ranging in ages- each carrying burlap sacks.

The youngest, a four-year-old from the top floor of Clara's apartment building, tugged on her skirt and she bent down to his level.

"Miss Clara, are you going to play games with us?" She ruffled his long sandy hair and was about to answer when Robert groaned loudly and threw his cap on the ground.

"No—she's not."

"Yes, mom asked me to watch you," Clara stood and put her hands on her hips. "I'm supposed to—"

"I'm not a child!"

"You're ten!"

"Which is five years older than you were when we all snuck out to the movies for the first time." A new voice cut in.

Clara didn't even turn around, "You're not helping the issue, Bucky."

"I wasn't trying to help," she could picture his stupid little arrogant smirk. Bucky always seemed to be around just when she didn't want him to be. Clara folded her arms and turned on her heel.

He looked like he always did, his hair perfectly coiffed and face half-shaven. His signature smirk was, as she had guessed it, playing across his lips.

"Hey." She rolled her eyes as he flung his arm around her shoulder. He pulled her around so they were both facing Robert and his friends who, at this point, looked fairly impatient.

"Hey fellas, if you don't mind, I'm going to borrow Clara for the evening." None save for the four-year-old seemed too disappointed. Robert even grinned widely and mockingly waved.

Clara began to protest, but with a _whoosh_ , her world was tilted on its axle. It took her a minute to realize what had just happened. By that time, however, Bucky had already inclined his head to the boys and was walking away, Clara thrown over his shoulder.

Screeching , she hit his back and attempted to kick him in the stomach,

"James Buchanan Barnes, you put me down this instant!" His only response was to bounce her a couple of times, knocking the air out of her lungs. She huffed, but resigned to prop herself up on his back using her elbows.

After an uncomfortable minute of being stared at by everyone around her, Bucky stopped walking and greeted someone

"Who's that?" The person asked.

Bucky turned around and she came face to face with a mildly disgruntled Steve Rogers. "Hello, Steve," Clara sighed.

To her friend's credit, he barely blinked. Instead, he greeted Clara with a wide smile. Bucky turned back around and she was left staring grumpily at a wooden pole.

"Would you put me down now? I'd rather Steve not have a conversation with you while my rear end is in his face," finally, she was set down. Steve's face had gone a bit red, but Clara didn't tease him for it- she was too busy glaring at Bucky.

"That wasn't necessary."

"Trust me doll, it was." He laughed and leaned up against the pole, "Us three have some reunitin' to do. Besides, Steve challenged me to see who could win the most prizes and we need someone to referee."

"Why don't you have Jane Keen do it- I saw you neckin' with her two weeks ago. I'm sure she's desperate for some more attention," Clara mocked and prepared to march away.

"I could say the same thing about you and Daniel Peters," Clara stopped and clenched her fists. It was true, she had agreed to go out with him-once. But it didn't take long for her to realize that he was a bit too aggressive and vain for her taste. Clara had spent the last week taking back alleys to avoid him.

"In fact, I think I see him right over there!" She whirled around, and sure enough, there he stood by a caramel apple stand, "Hey, Pet—"

She jumped into action and shoved her hand over Bucky's mouth, "Alright! I'll come with you," she glanced nervously back at Daniel, "just—shush." Clara put her finger against his lips and pushed Bucky behind a food cart with her other hand.


	2. Chapter 2

While Clara and Bucky had been arguing, Steve had wandered away from them. They found him in front of the ring toss game watching a group of girls attempt to catch a milk bottle with a wooden ring. A pretty red-head flung her arm wildly and groaned loudly when the ring missed the bottles completely. Her friends immediately surrounded her, cooing consolations.

Steve jumped as Clara leaned on his shoulder, "You know, if you concentrate on her hard enough, Becky might actually notice your presence in her mind—"

"And then call on her boyfriend to beat you up," Bucky finished, as he broke in between Clara and Steve.

Steve laughed guilty and rubbed his head, "Let's just go play some games."

"Or in your case— lose some," Bucky ruffled the blonde hair of his friend, flung his arms around both of their shoulders, and pulled them both over to a booth with more milk bottles and a few red balls.

The next hour was spent with playful competition and banter. Bucky was good at any game that required brute strength, but Steve excelled in luck and strategy. Prizes were won and handed over to either Steve or Bucky, who in turn, handed them off to Clara. Two and a half hours later, they had played all of the games at least three times, eaten countless swirls of cotton candy, and every available pocket was holding toys and trinkets. Both played dirty, Clara was barely able to keep them in check, but in the end, no winner was evident.

They tried to convince her to declare a winner. Bribes came in many different forms—food, stuffed animals—currently, however, she was currently scoping out the flea market that was set up at the end of the block. While Steve and Bucky argued about who won several yards away, Clara shifted through piles of rusted necklaces and brooches that were missing their jewel. Why would anyone buy these things?

Bored, she turned to break up Steve and Bucky when someone stepped towards Clara, effectively trapping her between their large chest and the table.

He had finally caught up to her.

"Hello Daniel." Clara tried to move around him, but he moved in front of her again.

He folded his arms, "You've been avoiding me."

She laughed nervously, "Nooo, I just—" Clara hesitated, "had no way of finding you after our date!"

She backed up to the table and leaned back as Daniel moved forward. His body was now almost pressed against hers.

"I live in the building across the street, as you know perfectly well."

Clara tried her best to look surprised and when that failed to impress him, she attempted to duck under his arm. He grabbed her upper arm tightly, squeezing as Clara struggled against against his grip.

"You're hurting me!" She gasped as his fingers pinched into her skin. With her hand that wasn't trapped, Clara pulled at his wrist, trying to free herself. Daniel stopped her quickly by wrapping his other hand around her wrist. She twisted herself in a desperate attempt to break away, but only succeeded in hurting herself further. Now she was trapped.

"I believe the lady would like you to leave." Clara breathed a sigh of relief when a different voice came from behind Daniel.

"We're just having a little conversation—" Daniel looked down at Clara with a glint in his eye, "now scram before I make you regret it."

"How 'bout you scram before you regret it." Daniel rolled his eyes and smirked slightly, not letting her go as he turned to face the owner of the voice.

Steve.

To his credit, what he lacked in strength he made up in heart. Heart, however, didn't often win fist-fights. Steve didn't back down from the man in front of him though, throwing a sloppy-yet-unexpected punch that Daniel was forced to free both hands to block. He recovered quickly and sent Steve tumbling to the ground with a hard shove. Steve's face met asphalt and he curled into a ball in expectation of what was going to happen next.

As Daniel set on Steve, Clara searched desperately for something to help. The larger man began kicking the smaller and she let out a shriek, diving at Daniel. Taken aback, he lost his balance and the two of them crashed into a table, sending metal trinkets flying.

People shouted in alarm as Clara scrambled to her feet, pulling Steve along with her.

"Go!" Steve hesitated, but stumbled to his feet. She pushed him forward, but then went tumbling to the ground as Daniel wrapped his hand around her ankle.

She panicked for a moment, but Bucky appeared in the nick of time, ruthlessly kicking Daniel in the stomach again and again. Steve seemed eager to join in, but Clara yanked both of them away, knowing full well Daniel could take both of them out with a single punch once he got back up.

Clara kept a vice-like grip on the two of them as she led them through the mass of people that congregated in the area. A quick glance behind her revealed that Daniel had indeed recovered quickly and was steadily gaining on the three friends. An idea came to Clara suddenly:

"Split up!" Clara let go and gently gave her friends a shove in opposite directions. Continuing straight ahead, she slipped through tents and wove around people, eliciting several annoyed protests. However, she only stopped once she was completely sure she had lost him. Clara leaned up against a tent pole and slid to the ground, breathing heavily. A few people gave her odd looks, but she chose to ignore them: Clara was sure that they had seen weirder things on the streets.

She stayed where she was for a couple minutes and once she had caught her breath, decided to look for Bucky and Steve. Hopefully the two of them were able to lose Daniel as easily as she had. Goodness knows what would happen if the man had caught up to her friends. Trying not to dwell too much on her thoughts, she frowned and scanned the crowd of people.

Steve would be nearly impossible to locate- his small stature ensured that he wouldn't stand out in a group of people. Meanwhile, Bucky was a little taller than average, and his head would be easily spotted.

On a hunch, Clara scoped out the bandstand. A group of men played brass instruments while couples whirled around in perfect sync. Sure enough, Bucky was swaying back-and-forth with a curly-headed brunette. With an exasperated sigh, Clara approached them. Bucky had some messed up priorities.

Clara stopped just behind Bucky and waited a few seconds before saying, "Ten minutes, Barnes, it's been ten minutes."

Bucky jumped and guiltily spun to face her.

"And I see you found Jane, how nice." The brunette in question tossed her hair and laced her arm through Bucky's.

"We're in the middle of something, so why don't you run along and find some other little children to play with."

Clara folded her arms, but refrained from responding. Instead, she raised an eyebrow at Bucky—

"Steve's still running around somewhere and you know he won't back down from a fight." Many emotions flickered across Bucky's face, but eventually it settled on apologetic as he slipped his arm from Jane's.

"I'll not go far," he promised desperately as Clara tugged him away, leaving Jane fuming and shooting daggers.

"Jane Keen and I aren't a thing," Clara mimicked, he was such a liar.

"Not officially—" She cut him off by pulling him into a line.

"I'm not even going to argue this with you, we have bigger things to worry about."

"Steve." Bucky shook his head and leaned on a fence.

"Right, we have to find him before Daniel does."

"What did you even do to piss him off that much?"

She set her mouth in a firm line and it took more prodding from Bucky before Clara answered. "I went on a date with him, decided I really didn't like him, and have been avoiding him for the last week and a half."

"Is that it?" Bucky laughed, "from his reaction I thought you, I don't know, set him on fire."

"Is that still an option?"

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Thanks for reading, and if you liked it, remember to review!


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